Troubled Waters
by shywr1ter
Summary: S1, ML Christmas gift for Tigrou in the Christmas at Christmas Challenge. Logan messed up, Logan tries to make amends. Little plot, mostly moosh.


**DISCLAIMER: Dark Angel borrowed; as always, no profits realized. **

_**Christmas at Christmas Challenge: a Gift for Tigrou**_

**A/N:** RT4Ever (a/k/a Mia) has followed her successful Christmas in July Challenge with one for the _real_, December Christmas, a DA Secret Santa /story request/ gift exchange for M/L authors. All of the challenge responses will be posted with the Christmas in July Challenges at the FFN C2, "Christmas Challenges 2007."

In her request, Tigrou requested **the ocean, humor & food. **

I confess, wanting to include "the ocean" really threw me, and led to a running banter with Lisa0316 as to what exactly would qualify (after which, from a series of disjointed thoughts, came this story – so thanks, Lisa!) I figured food & humor would be easy but I wanted the _real_ ocean ... however, what follows has barely any of the three! **:\** Sorry, Tig; I hope you enjoy it anyhow... (Less difficult was what she did _not_ want to see: anything S2, a Ben-related story line, or too much Jam Pony. Hey, no problem with omitting these:)

Thanks to Mia for once again hosting a great party, to Mari for reading parts of this story, both early and late in its writing, and to Lisa for arguing semantics!

_**Merry Christmas Tigrou and all holiday cheer, everyone!**_

_**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO**_

**Troubled Waters**

_**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO**_

Logan certainly hadn't seen it coming – even in those last minutes before Max arrived to take care of this latest break-in for him, he was checking security, arranging her best approach, planning the details of this 'heist.' Despite the limited information he'd given Max about this one, she _had_ to have sensed its importance, because the couple times he'd mentioned it, he could hear a higher than usual level of interest in her voice. He hadn't told her that his main reason for wanting these records was that they might well contain information gleaned from Manticore, and that he suspected the place represented the government's attempt at making lemonade from the 'lemons' that created her and her siblings...

The Office of Cryo-Eugenics and Neonatology had been quietly working in the Pacific Northwest for at least seven years, and in the last couple years had begun publishing its work. Advertised as a sterling research center with pristine government oversight, the well-funded Office made Logan suspicious that it might be a way in which the Manticore-driven research of a decade before, the same which led to the 'development' of Max and her siblings, would be slowly introduced to an unsuspecting public. Through this office, the government might work to convince the world that the same genetic engineering ultimately used to develop a bunch of super-soldiers, though certainly a very white-washed version of it, was merely a benign project for the betterment of society. For what end, Logan wouldn't speculate until his suspicions were either confirmed or debunked. He had checked and double checked the place he'd be sending her; he assured himself the facility itself was neither a Manticore facility nor otherwise dangerous for Max. It was public enough and easy enough to get in and out that she wouldn't be any danger, other than that which would befall any other trespasser peering into private files. Given Max's skills, she'd probably never even be noticed.

Of course, he hadn't told Max any of this. He had rationalized his secrecy as looking out for her, of not getting her hopes – or her ire – raised too early. There was no telling what Max might do if she found out that the place might be built on some of the 'research' actually done on her and her siblings.

So maybe he _had_ been more secretive than usual about this one. Maybe he'd been overly vague and just mentioned the 'usual run in and check it out' sort of visit, lift some records, move on. Maybe he'd waited until they were making dinner a few nights earlier, and Max had been distracted, trying to perfect the art of making home-made noodles, dropping the dough they'd made from Mrs. Moreno's recipe into boiling water and ending up, to the amusement of them both, with more globs than noodles. He told himself she'd always multi-tasked before, so it wasn't like he was _really_ hiding things from her...

... but he'd never worked so hard to justify his actions to himself before. And he'd have to admit to himself, later, that he had absolutely no reason to be surprised at her confusion, when he'd worked so hard to keep her in the dark...

He heard the door and Max's voice ring out as she came in, sounding breathless and lighthearted. "Logan? You ready?" She rounded the divider wall to his office entry and Logan blinked in surprise at the sight of her – unlike any other mission she'd done for him so far, she'd been dressed in lighter colors and fabrics, wearing canvas shoes and an open shirt over a tank top, not her usual cat-burglar black, her boots and leather jacket. She had a fair-sized duffle slung on her shoulder, when in the past she'd brought, at most, a slim wallet of pick-tools, unless he specified more was needed. Her hair was tied back in a pony tail, making her look fresh and even younger – or was it the glow of anticipation that made her look that way?

He reddened, suddenly realizing that he might have made matters worse by being so deceptive.

"Yeah, I'm ready, but..." He stalled. "Max ... what kind of a mission did you think this was?"

She looked confused for a brief moment before she quickly realized she'd made a huge error. "The mission..." she repeated, trying to recover her bearings. "...the kind you said, of course..."

And Logan's eyes narrowed. _She thought it was ... what, just a get-away? A picnic or something?_

"...I was just trying to fit in with the sort of stuff people wear, if they're going out to the ocean..."

_Oh, damn..._ Logan saw the happy glow draining away from her face as she watched his discomfort increase, and Max started catching on just how far off the mark she'd been. "Max... not 'the ocean...'" he wondered, guiltily, if he could explain this in any way that she wouldn't be pissed at him. "The "OCEAN.' It's an acronym – O-C-E-A-N – for the Office of Cryo-Eugenics and Neonatology." He saw in her eyes that she understood immediately the possible connection such a place might have to her own, personal history. Had be been _that_ vague about the mission, that she honestly thought he mean the _actual_ ocean? Clearly he _had_ been ... and he braced himself for the full-blast ire of a deceived X-5.

But what he saw was even worse.

"Oh." Her face fell for the moment, to Logan's surprise, and she looked away quietly, regrouping. Looking closer, he waited, seeing real disappointment there. _She honestly thought I was going to take her out – what, to the beach? Sailing? On a cruise?_ Just as his eyes softened at this newest of surprises from Max, she glanced up again, almost guiltily, to find herself under his scrutiny, and her emotional shields clanged back up into place. "What?" She snapped, self-consciously, shaking off whatever it was he'd seen, and angrily dropped the canvas duffle she'd carried in a far corner, half-hidden by a chair. "So you got the plans ready for this bitch, or you want me to come back later?"

He assured her he had them, and pulled them from a file at his side; she assured him she didn't need his ride or his back up, once she gave the floor plan a quick once over. In only moments he was left alone in the quiet penthouse, not quite sure how he'd done it, but also quite certain that he was responsible for Max's abrupt change from the cheerful, enthusiastic anticipation he'd seen when she came in to the defensive, protective surliness with which she left.

Logan let out a long, noisy sigh. _The ocean? Really? It meant that much to her?_ It never occurred to him that she'd even consider it, especially with all the other feline attributes her DNA had given her. Was he wrong? Was it something else?

...no way. The speed with which her enthusiasm faded, her reaction to his clarification, left no other possibility. It was why she dressed for a sail, not a mission. Succumbing to his investigative curiosity, his niggling guilt insufficient to overcome his need to know what Max'd had in mind, Logan crossed over to where her bag lay abandoned, and gingerly, with one, careful finger, pulled it open to peer inside.

He saw a worn, terrycloth towel, shorts, sunglasses ... and the colorful red strings of what could only be a bathing suit top...

_What the hell had she been thinking?_

_No, you idiot,_ he grimaced, again remembering the hurt and disappointment on the lovely face. _What the hell were __**you**__ thinking?_

He sat back, unmoving, and realized his so-clever deception had backfired – badly. So Max had thought she was going to the 'ocean' – _meaning what? A trip – with me? On the water or just at its edge? Her job as a messenger __**had**__ to take her to the harbor, dockside, several times a week; certainly __**that**__ would have lost its allure by now even for one new to the port city... _At least she'd known it was a mission ... hadn't she? Or had he mentioned so little of it that she hadn't brought this as a cover?

_So just what had she thought they'd be doing?_

Logan sighed again, more softly this time, the memory of Max's disappointment haunting him. When she'd first come in she'd almost been breathless, her eyes alight with anticipation ... she looked so beautiful ... happy. And he'd brought her crashing back to earth...

Back in the day, he'd've had a dozen ways to make it up to her, right off the top of his head. But times were different ... _things_ were different.

_Still..._

The last thing he'd ever want to do was to disappoint her. Max deserved some of that happiness in her life, a day or two like whatever it was she thought lay ahead. _If there was a way to make it up to her..._

Logan brooded, his mind considering then tossing out possibilities. _The 'ocean...'_

_The ocean. Right..._

Not yet allowing himself too much hope, Logan went back to his computer and called up site after site, tracking new sites and information from old, familiar names. After finding a couple he didn't reject outright, he lifted the phone for the first of several calls, enlisting advice and assistance. _If this could work..._ "Bling? Yeah, hi; it's me," he began, tentatively, in his next call. "Look, I could use your input on a project. Can you stop by after you're done at the hospital, maybe give me ten minutes?"

If anyone could help him make this possible, Bling could. In the mean time, he loaded up some photos and other information he'd found and started a new file. He'd hurt Max, even if unintentionally, and he needed to make it right. The hurt of disappointment in those expressive brown eyes was something he never wanted to see again...

**II.**

It would be nearly three weeks before Logan's plan could be implemented, taking nearly two of those weeks to coordinate everything. He hated the wait; he tried to talk about the misunderstanding with Max, even to apologize, but she would only shrug it away, pretending it meant nothing, that she'd not given it a moment's thought – but she came over a little less often, stayed a little less time, was a little more quieter and self-protective, a little less quick to laugh and tease...

...and Logan found himself holding his breath that he'd not ruined that tenuous, still-developing connection between them...

Any early thought he'd had about telling her it was a mission and surprising her along the way was jettisoned early. _Being so damn clever was what got you in trouble in the first place, _he lectured himself. _Whatever you tell her, tell her the truth ... and admit there's a surprise in the works. You have a lot of making up to do ..._ He ached every time he remembered that look of disappointment he'd seen in her eyes, especially knowing how few moments of real happiness she must have had through her life, and bitterly regretted taking this one from her. But he understood that ultimately, for Max, it wasn't about her not getting to go on whatever trip she'd thought had been planned. It was that the trust she'd placed in him had been broken, that he'd let her down when she had dared to let herself look forward to something. That hurt her and haunted him. _...a lot of making up_, he reminded himself yet again.

He finished loading the first box with supplies and food items which needed no preparation, efficiently loading in candles, matches, coffee and a small french press, wine, some trail mix and snack mix he'd made the day before. He peeked in again and saw that the little bag from the pharmacy was there too, holding sunscreen, toothpaste and new brushes, even a couple small soaps – they might not be needed, but easy packed so they'd be prepared. He hefted the box onto his lap and started his second trip downstairs to pack the Aztek, laying a couple blankets and extra jackets across his lap and beside him before going out into the elevator.

_Just think of it as a mission,_ he told himself grimly as he rode down, hoping to calm the edginess he felt that this wouldn't go as he'd hoped. _Some missions go like clockwork, others go sideways. Just play it by ear and see if you can avoid making things worse..._

He opened the tailgate and felt another flash of guilt as he saw, nestled inside his car next to the small, deck-friendly chair Bling had located for him, Max's duffle, just as she'd dropped it that day. After it sat in his corner for over a week, both of them studiously ignoring it, Logan decided he'd pack it in his car too, if it was still there by the time his plans came together.

It was.

He sighed, hoping yet again Max would want to do this, that she'd enjoy it all, and lifted the box from his lap to slide it in the back and lay the blankets and jackets on top of it. Those little niggling doubts he tried to ignore still worked at him – this going too far, she'd think he was insane, _they weren't like that_ – and he gritted his teeth. _Just like all last minute mission doubts_, he told himself firmly. _Sometimes, for the universe to be on schedule, it just needs a little push now and then. Sort of the whole point behind Eyes Only ... maybe just as true for making amends with Max..._

Box loaded in the Aztek, he spun back toward the elevator, mind ahead on the final prep. He had a cooler to pack which, admittedly, he might need to ask Max to take downstairs. Maybe the promise of a loaded cooler would make this seem like a better idea...

...but, back upstairs, even the feel of the ingredients and the usually soothing actions of chopping, blending and turning out wonderfully-scented delights didn't calm him. _Face it – she's that important to you; she's lost some of her trust in you and you're scared she won't want to get it back. You've been too wrapped up in your own moping and avoidance behavior to remember that one of the worst things you can do in a relationship is take the other person for granted..._

He suddenly stopped puttering. _A relationship?_ Had he just thought of them in those terms, now?

_And just what else would you call it, Cale?_ another voice jeered. _A pretty weird relationship, though, given how you feel and how drop dead gorgeous she is and how you never..._

"Logan?"

He gulped. The door – and her voice, though not as bubbly and hopeful as that last time. At least she was there and it was time to face the music...

She had started down the hall but came to an abrupt halt as she saw him in the kitchen. Raising an eyebrow, she glanced at the cooler, not completely surprised. He'd admitted he wanted this to be just a nice outing, a thanks for her work and a chance to get out of the city. She looked wary but not tense, and even offered a quiet smile. "Hey," she tried. "Feeding an army?"

He relaxed into an uncertain smile of his own, seeing that she was willing to trust him at least for the adventures of a surprise trip. "Just want to be prepared." He looked at her and, immediately falling off script, offered, "thanks, Max."

Her eyebrows lifted, curiosity for not only his secret plan, but his sudden gratitude, drawing her connection back to him. "What for?"

He colored a little, awkward with the knowledge that his well-rehearsed progression in this had just been tossed with one look at her. "For ... going along with this. For letting me surprise you with where we're going. I just ... wanted to do something a little different, something you might enjoy. For all the work you've done for me ... all the times you bailed out Eyes Only or me..."

Her eyes softened a little at his words, and Logan felt a growing hope that maybe, maybe, he could win back Max's trust and friendship. _And after that...?_ one of his little voices insisted. He ignored it as she spoke.

"... I think it's been a pretty even trade," she admitted, softly.

The script flew out the window as Logan caved in at her words. "Max, I'm sorry ... I screwed up that last mission, when I was so vague about everything that you got the wrong idea..."

She shrugged, again trying to look unaffected, all tough and unmoved. "My fault for not asking. Or for just making assumptions. No big dealio."

But he knew her well enough now to see through it ... even knew her well enough to know that she never used the word "dealio" with him unless she was trying to show him she was unmoved... "Yes," he moved just a little closer, "it _was_, Max. It _was_ a big deal, because you ended up expecting something from me, and I let you down." He took a breath, and went on, "I know that you got the wrong idea, when I asked you to get those files ... from..."

Her cheeks flushed, remembering the embarrassment of her misunderstanding – and resulting disappointment. "From 'the Ocean?'" she beat him to it,"when I thought you meant _the_ ocean – like the Pacific." She looked away. She wanted to pull up some of her usual swagger to show him it meant nothing, but she couldn't this time – not with his heartfelt words, not with him before her like this, apologizing. _He shouldn't have to apologize_, she told herself weakly, _it was your own stupid assumption that messed things up._ "Stupid," she echoed aloud, not yet willing to give in to her dawning hope that this really was what she thought...

"No, not stupid ... just ... our not communicating. _My_ not communicating everything to you. I'm sorry, Max."

The sound in his voice brought her eyes back to his, and she shrugged, not sure why this time was different. "Not like _that_ hasn't happened before," she snorted softly, still scrambling for distance. _Trust no one..._ she remembered the lessons well. _Trust will only get you killed..._

_Or hurt. Or a broken heart..._

"I know ... but ... that look of disappointment I saw, in you..." Logan was saying, daring to say more than they ever had. "_That,_ I'd never seen. I hope I was never the cause of that sort of feeling for you, any other time. Max, I've seen you mad at me, exasperated, just about everything ... but seeing _that_ ... and knowing that I had a part of your being hurt, like that..." He sighed. "I _am_ sorry, Max. If there was any possible way to do over that whole thing, I would. Since I can't ... let me try to make it up to you."

She_had_ been hurt. Max remembered the feeling as sharply as if it had just happened, and also remembered the feeling thirty minutes later that she was over-reacting, that it was a silly mix-up and meant nothing... which, to her discomfort, left her even more sad. _Phony sentimentality ... rising hopes ... the one way to guarantee that no hopes are squelched or communications garbled is to keep your distance,_ she'd lectured herself at the time. _No sappy, Cinderella fantasies means no turning into a pumpkin when Prince Charming is all work, no play..._

And Max also remembered her discomfort when she found herself casting Logan as Prince Charming...

...but there he was, Prince Charming himself, his hair pointing every which way, sitting amid vegetables and half emptied ingredients he'd used to work his culinary magic for her yet again, green eyes shining brightly behind slightly smudged lenses, looking to connect with her, telling her he knew how bad she had felt and how _that_ had bothered him.

Enough that here they were, planning to head out of the city to Logan's surprise destination. Enough that he dared to cross that boundary they'd erected since the early days, each to keep their heart safe from hurt...

_Prince Charming..._

She looked at the green eyes, so closely watching her own for a sign, a reaction from her, and she finally laughed, softly. Glancing to the counter and his work in progress, meaningfully, she offered a small smile. "At least you have the right idea going here, to get things started."

His own smile crept back at seeing Max accept his efforts at apology. "I made some of your favorites," he tried.

She smiled wider and let her eyebrows lift higher. "Yeah?" She moved around the counter to the cooler and started rifling through its contents, enough to see he'd already packed enough food to last for a while. "You planning to be gone a month?"

He shrugged. "Or an afternoon. Your call. I just want to be ready for all possibilities..."

She looked back at his hopeful expression, and felt her smile widening involuntarily. "Still not going to tell me what they are?"

He looked at her waiting expression and, seeing she was again willing to go along with him, he dared, "more fun if it's a surprise."

"More fun for whom?" Her retort was immediate and sarcastic, but her eyes shone with fun, and her smile told him he might find his way back into her trust again. Before he could say more, she gestured over to the last of the items he was preparing to pack, and urged, "well, let get this thing going. What else do you need to do?"

"This is it. Everything else is packed."

She snorted. "If you _do_ plan a month, you might have told a girl to pack a few things..."

He smiled softly, sheepishly. "I did. I told Original Cindy ... and she dropped off a bag with some of your things... we can check it before we leave, if you want to make sure..."

Her eyes got large, and for a moment he wondered if he'd again screwed up, by enlisting Original Cindy's help. But she finally just laughed, and Cindy's prediction was right that when Max understood what he was doing and why, it would all be good. He relaxed even as she started speaking, "if you let her in on whatever the big secret is, then Original Cindy would probably know better than I would what to pack."

"So ... leave that as a surprise too?" he asked, sounding more and more hopeful as they spoke.

"Oh, why not, if you two worked so hard to keep this a secret," she laughed, charmed into acceptance by the growing hope she saw in his eyes. "Hurry up and get those things packed. I can only wait to be surprised so long..."

"Then as a preview..." Logan turned back to his workbench and grabbed a piece of broccoli still lying there. Using it to scrape along the inside of the bowl he'd just emptied into a sealed container, he managed to get enough of the creamy dip on it to give Max a good taste. "See what you think."

She popped it into her mouth and, in the next moment, her eyes lit up and she smiled. "What is it? I've never tasted this before..."

"You like it? It's usually a love it or hate it thing..."

"I love it. You've been holding out on me?"

He shook his head. "It's just impossible to get since the Pulse, even when you know the right people." He smiled to see her enjoyment of it and said, "It's bleu cheese – Roquefort – can't get too much yet, but a little goes a long way – like in a dip for vegetables..."

Her eyes softened as she looked at him, clearly forgiving nearly every misstep he'd ever taken with her. "Only you, Logan Cale..." she said softly, her voice an unusual, soft. "Only you could show me that I could like cheese that's blue..." But in the next moment she blushed a little and grabbed for another piece of broccoli. "Are we going _today_?" she teased, popping the piece in her mouth.

"All set." He pivoted to take the bowl to the sink and give it a quick swish before stashing it in the dishwasher. "Those two containers go in to the cooler, and that's it."

"Done." Max grabbed the plastic tubs and lay them into the chest, closed and latched it, and lifted it smoothly. "Really ready?"

"Only have to set Eyes Only into lock-out mode..."

Max's eyebrows lifted, and the look of happiness that had been slowly settling back into them was now overcome by a look of wonder. "You ... really _are_ getting ready for all possibilities..."

Logan smiled in his own hope. "I meant it, Max ... I screwed up, and I want to make amends." He watched carefully and say that, finally, it was the right thing to say. Her smile grew with his words. "And to make amends ... " he grinned too at his success, as he turned and crossed into his computer room to enter a few fast commands, "a guy has to leave himself some room." He came back out to see Max waiting, holding the heavy cooler easily, waiting for him. "You ready to go?"

She smirked and turned to head toward the door. "As if I didn't have to come hurry you up..." As she opened the door, Logan grabbed another small bag by the door and the paper sack sitting on top of it. As they got into the elevator and rode it down, Max turned to Logan and said, again softly. "You know ... you didn't have to do all this. But thanks..."

"I wanted to." His words were immediate. But in another moment, a small smile played his lips and he lifted his eyebrows to offer, "besides, you don't even know what the surprise is yet. It might be awful."

"I would have thought 'blue cheese' was awful, twenty minutes ago. You don't _do_ 'awful,' Logan. Besides..." she shrugged. "How could any surprise be better than your doing all this for me?"

And, if just for that moment, Logan was rendered speechless...

**III.**

They packed his car with the cooler and his bag; he brought the sack into the front seat with them and told Max it was for the ninety minutes or so they'd have in the car. It would have been impossible to determine who was more pleased, Max, for the home made snack and trail mixes Logan had packed, or Logan, for Max's delight with them. It wasn't long before they'd cleared the last checkpoint of the city and were on I-5 heading northwest, and Max's anticipation began to grow. She'd not forgotten what she thought had been in store for that last mission, and was trying not to hope too much that Logan had figured it out, too.

They relaxed even more in the car, Max catching him up on the latest about her co-workers, realizing she'd missed being able to tell him about their antics. Logan told her about some new leads to follow, about wrapping up some old ones, realizing he'd missed being able to tell her about those secrets only she and Bling might know.

The conversation was comfortable ... almost intimate, given the secrets each knew about the other. And within the comfort, each started realizing how right it was, to pass this time with someone held so close in their battered little heart, how rare such connection was in the broken world ... the fact that it had happened between a genetically engineered fugitive and an underground vigilante was rattling and impossible enough that each had to shake the thought and focus on keeping their comfortable conversation going or risk blowing it yet again...

Max felt another leap in her hopes when Logan pulled off the highway toward Anacortes. From her early recon of Washington state, its proximity to Canada and the best way to cross the border in an emergency, she knew that it was a dead end unless you had a boat ... but also knew it was one of the last stops to which they could drive before heading out – on a boat – to the nearby islands. Logan must have known the area; he mentioned using his uncle's yacht. She didn't notice she'd become quiet, and that Logan looked over a couple times to smile at her growing anticipation.

_The ocean_, she finally admitted to herself, _he knew..._

In silence, they circled out toward the harbor and Logan drove surely along the streets nearby, certainly near the water by now, Max thought. Then suddenly he took a turn to the right, and in only a moment the sparkling blue water was before her...

She drew a breath, happily. Somehow the water here, the way it looked and smelled, was fresher than in Seattle, saltier. She sat forward, watching everything ... and in only another few minutes Logan turned again, and followed the loading area along the pier...

He went all the way out where there were barely any others, few boats and fewer people. She noticed a striking boat of white and highly varnished wood bobbing alone at a slip, ahead. A sail boat nearly fifty feet long, she estimated, its sails were still folded, waiting, but a figure walked up and across the deck, seemingly preparing to sail.

...and Logan was heading straight for it...

He pulled up as close as he could to the pier, fifty yards or so away, and just sat back, admiring it. "It's the _Molly McGee_," he offered. "She's a sloop," he added, clearly waiting for her reaction.

Her surprise? Max was almost afraid to ask; it would be Logan's style to engineer a boat ride for her ... but she'd been wrong before... "She's beautiful..." Max tried, tentatively.

Logan turned to her. "You like her? Because she's ours for the weekend, Max; as much of that time as you like ... or not, if this is a bad idea. But as long as a sail as you'd like, up til Sunday evening..."

"Ours?" She _was_ surprised. "You mean .. it's not one of those tours with a bunch of other people...?"

"No," he smiled, "just us. Well, the captain too; I haven't exactly practiced how to pilot one of these things without crawling around on all four limbs." He watched as the wonder in Max's eyes grew, and he finally trusted that his surprise was a good one. "But who knows, if you enjoy this trip..." he grinned in gentle amusement.

"Logan," she breathed, still amazed. "You chartered this ship ... just for us ... for the whole weekend?"

He nodded, reminding her, "for as much or as little of that time as you want. Just as you want, Max... You expected an ocean visit that last mission, and I didn't set you straight. You got your hopes up..." he shrugged, "and so ... maybe this will do."

The sound of his own hope in his voice brought her eyes back to him, made her look for more behind the hopeful, green eyes, letting the implications filter in. _The quintessential Logan ... offering an elaborate, private trip, as a gesture of ... of..._ she let her thoughts skirt the words. _And it's not just the cash needed to do this, but the planning it must have taken ... his thoughtfulness in every small detail..._

She looked back up to the elegant ship awaiting them, and she melted into a smile. "Logan ... " she looked back to him, truly at a loss for words. Finally, she shrugged, "you know ... this looks like a full-op mission, all the planning and precision ... I've never known anyone who went to all this trouble, just for one person..." She drew a breath, and admitted what he certainly must already know, "and no one has even come close to doing something ...just 'cos they thought it might make me happy."

Those last words came out in a whisper, and Logan thought he saw the large, brown eyes glitter with an unusual brightness. He cleared his throat, afraid he might be overcome with the emotion of the moment, too, and managed thickly, "you know... this will just be around the Islands, Max. We won't be heading all the way out to the ocean itself..."

She rolled her eyes, a quick, emotional laugh breaking free, and she sniffed as unobtrusively as she could. "Only you would be worried about the technicalities, if it was the bay or the channel or the ocean..."

"I just wanted to be sure it wasn't what you'd hoped for, to see the ocean itself..."

His green eyes shone with such hopeful sincerity, surrounded by the sparkling water, the pristine ship, the clear sky and her rising longing to feel his arms around her, that she interrupted, "oh, Logan, stop talking..."

And the very next moment she further guaranteed his silence by leaning close, her lips capturing his...

_**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO**_

_**Merry Christmas!  
**_


End file.
